Dirty Laundry
by emn1936
Summary: She murmured to her guest for a few moments in a patter meant to put him at ease before the on-air interview began. The entire Federation was salivating to get a good look at the young captain and hear his story.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story is loosely a follow-up to one I wrote a few years ago entitled "Home", the premise of which was the arrival of the _Enterprise_ crew back on Earth after the events of the first movie. And while not necessarily a story begging for a sequel, there was one thread within it which has always niggled at the back of my mind – that is Kirk being pushed by Starfleet Media into the spotlight in the wake of the destruction of the _Narada_; forced to do interviews and press. This story is the imaging of his first big interview.

As a result of main focus of the story being that first interview, it is dialogue heavy.

The title was inspired by the Don Henley song. "_I make my living off the evening news; Just give me something, something I can use; People love it when you lose, they love dirty laundry."_

"Dirty Laundry"

Arianna – known on over a dozen different worlds by only her first name – was obsessed with controlling every aspect of her program. As such, her staff was unfazed to see her stroll into the hair and makeup department, ostensibly to greet her guest, but also to verify that every little detail of his appearance met with her approval.

"Jim!" She pasted a welcoming smile on her face and strode forward with outstretched hands toward the young man seated before a large, lighted mirror.

"Is it okay if I call you Jim?" She caught Jim Kirk's hand between both of hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We're just thrilled and honored that you chose our program for your first interview," she cooed with practiced sincerity.

Arianna had begun her career as a hard-hitting journalist who had broken important stories throughout the Federation. Her no-nonsense ability to get to the heart of a story had made her a household name on any number of planets. Now, a celebrity in her own right, she had been given her own bi-weekly program and in recent years had turned her attention to being the first to interview world leaders, celebrities, and other personalities making big news.

They didn't get any bigger than this, she thought, as she murmured to her guest for a few moments in a patter meant to put him at ease before the on-air interview began. The entire Federation was salivating to get a good look at the young captain and hear his story.

She patted a reassuring hand on his shoulder and took her leave. With a meaningful tilt of her head, she beckoned the stylist from the room.

"I'll be right back," the makeup artist assured Kirk, and with a flip of his purple streaked hair, followed his boss into the hallway where she was already speaking with a young Starfleet officer.

"I know Starfleet is looking at Kirk's appearance on my show with hopes that he will inspire a recruiting drive among the youth populations of the Federation so I assumed you would send him over in dress reds. After all, who can resist a good-looking young man in uniform? But I have to admit, your choice is brilliant."

All three glanced through the open door at the man seated inside. Kirk, unaware of their scrutiny, was engrossed in reading something on the tablet in his hands. Arianna and the makeup artist nodded approvingly at his appearance in the casual uniform of the corps of cadets. Charcoal trousers were paired with a black pullover shirt. The knit fabric clung lightly to the leanly defined muscles of his torso and the short sleeves revealed strong arms and hands. The academy insignia embroidered in dull gold thread on the breast pocket and etched onto the brass buckle of his belt gave the uniform a military flair while the three-button placket was left open at the throat offsetting the rigidity with a sense of casual comfort.

"He's gorgeous," the makeup artist noted. "People are going to love this guy."

Lieutenant Tamra Dexter of Starfleet Media Affairs nodded in agreement. She had lobbied hard with her commanding officer to abandon the dress red uniform in favor of this more relaxed look and wished Commander Parsons had been nearby to hear Arianna stand in agreement with her choice.

"Just take the shine off," Arianna counseled the stylist. "Don't cover those bruises. They tell a story of their own."

A faint frown briefly marred the smooth skin of Lt. Dexter's forehead. She wasn't sure that she wholly agreed with the other woman. She squinted at the subject of their scrutiny and after a moment's contemplation, could see the point being made. The dark circles under his eyes and the lines of exhaustion bracketing his mouth, as well as the faint traces of bruises on his cheekbone, jaw and encircling his throat lent a gravitas to his appearance that would be reassuring to older viewers while his youthful features would appeal to the potential recruits that Starfleet was desperate to reach.

With a nod of agreement, the stylist left them to return to his charge. Arianna murmured politely to the young officer and prepared to return to her dressing room to complete her own preparations.

"Arianna… do you have a moment?"

The talk show host stifled an impatient sigh.

"Anything for Starfleet," she gushed through a forced smile.

"I turned up some additional information on Mr. Kirk that I think you'll find interesting."

"Thank you, but I think my researchers and I have what I need." Arianna prayed for the patience to deal with overeager, overstepping, young media consultants. She raised a hand to dismiss the other woman and turned again to leave.

"I'm sure you've been very thorough," the young lieutenant demurred. "We wouldn't have thought to send him to anyone but you for his first interview, but, of course, every news program in the Federation wants to get their hands on him…"

Arianna spun around and pinned the other woman with a narrow-eyed stare. She didn't like being threatened.

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Send it to my assistant's hand-held."

"I'm sorry," Dexter apologized with patent insincerity. "It's your eyes only, or not at all."

The older woman covered the distance between them with two long, angry strides and held out an imperious hand for the lieutenant's PADD.

"Fine," she growled. "Let me see."

Dexter watched with ill-concealed satisfaction as the superior expression melted away from the talk show host's face to be replaced by gape-mouthed disbelief.

The older woman dragged her gaze away from the data displayed on the device in her hand.

"Are you sure of this?" Barely suppressed excitement tightened her voice.

"Starfleet keeps impeccable records." Dexter fought to keep her expression remote, but could not wholly erase the trace of smugness now creeping into her own tone.

"And you didn't give this information to anyone else?"

Arianna reached out and wrapped her hand around the other woman's arm in an urgent grip.

"We're live in less than ten minutes. There's no way for me to verify this." Her fingers tightened warningly. "I cannot go on air with something like this unless you're absolutely positive it's true."

"I am one hundred percent sure," Dexter promised. Glancing around, she lowered her voice. "Look, between you and me, I'm on a short list for promotion. I'm not going to pretend that a good word from you wouldn't go a long way to moving my name to the very top of that list." She widened her eyes meaningfully. "I wouldn't steer you wrong."

Arianna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them, she ran her gaze over the data again.

"Send it to my personal hand-held." She gave the lieutenant the code generally held for well-placed sources and trusted colleagues.

"I'm going to finish getting ready." Arianna laid a companionable hand on Dexter's shoulder and graced her with a brilliant smile. "We're going to make history tonight."

End notes: This story is not completely written though a good chunk of it is done and a large portion of the rest exists in outline form and in my head.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Truly, my guest this evening requires no introduction. I hope you will join me in welcoming the young man who took command of the USS _Enterprise_ and in so doing, saved this planet – and who knows how many others – from certain destruction."

Arianna shifted her gaze from the camera and directed a warm smile at the man seated on the other side of a small round table.

"Welcome, Captain Kirk. It's an honor to have you on our show."

Uncomfortable under the bright lights and the unblinking stare of the cameras directed at him, Jim Kirk fought the urge to fidget. He figured he had made it this far on bravado and luck. Hoping the well hadn't run dry, he pasted a smile on his face.

"It's my pleasure, ma'am," he demurred. "But it's 'cadet', not 'captain'. The captaincy was a temporary field command."

Arianna's eyes widened and she let out a little chuckle.

"I guess that's right. So much has happened in such a short period of time, it's easy to forget that despite everything, you've yet to actually graduate from the Academy."

"Yes, ma'am."

Arianna wrinkled her nose and released a tiny sigh.

"You call me 'ma'am' and I have to admit that it makes me feel old." She sent a winking glance toward the camera. "But I've interviewed enough Starfleet personnel over the years to know that asking you to call me 'Arianna' is going to fall on deaf ears. So I'm going to do my best to not wince every time you say 'ma'am'."

"Yes ma'am." He shot her a quick grin and drew an obliging laugh from her.

"So, tell us. You've been home a few days now. What have you been doing? Have you seen your family?"

"I spent the first evening with my mother and stepfather."

"And for the last two days?"

"Meetings." His shoulders rose and fell on a long exhale of breath. "Many, many meetings."

Arianna quirked a brow.

"Care to expand on that?"

Kirk rocked his head back and forth in careful consideration of his next words.

"I guess you could say the Admirals were…" He paused, allowing a well-timed beat, "… _curious_ about what happened out there."

She grinned, enjoying his quick wit.

"I know you're command track, but with an answer like that, you might want to think about joining the Diplomatic Corps."

"Ahh…

Kirk suppressed a laugh as he pictured Bones' reaction to Arianna's suggestion. He imagined the doctor's eyes rolling wildly about at the very idea of Jim as a Federation ambassador and wondered if it were possible to sprain one's eye sockets.

"Well," Arianna interrupted his silent musing. "Certainly, _I_ am as curious as any admiral. We've briefly mentioned the Academy. Why don't we start there?"

She consulted the notes on her tablet.

"The average Academy recruit is around eighteen or nineteen years of age. You were twenty-two when you entered the Academy. Why the late start?"

"The truth is that I had actively avoided the idea of the Academy for years."

"Why?"

Kirk rubbed a hand over his chin.

"I don't know if there's an easy answer to that question," he sighed. "I guess the short answer is that I was an angry, disillusioned kid hell-bent on doing exactly the opposite of what other people thought I should do with my life."

"But something changed your mind."

"Some_one_." Kirk clarified. "The officer who recruited me… he spoke with such sincere passion about the importance of Starfleet and the Federation."

Kirk glanced down for a moment before lifting his gaze back to hers.

"I don't know how to explain," he said softly. "He challenged me. I was twenty-two years old and my life was going nowhere because that's what I thought I wanted. Then he showed up and dared me to reach for something out of the ordinary."

"The officer you're speaking of is Captain Christopher Pike, is he not?"

"He is."

"The same Captain Pike who is currently the commanding officer of the _Enterprise_?"

"Yes." He swallowed hard, thinking of his mentor lying in a hospital bed at Starfleet Medical. There had been no time to visit the captain since returning home and he made a silent vow to do just that as soon as this interview had concluded.

Arianna glanced down at her notes again.

"Captain Pike elevated you to Acting First Officer of the _Enterprise_ before he left the ship to negotiate with the Romulan Nero."

"Yes."

She arched a brow.

"I'd say the captain has a great deal of confidence in you."

"I hope so."

"Let's back up just a bit," Arianna suggested. "You entered the Academy three years ago, but you're due to graduate at the end of this term." She frowned. "That means that you somehow managed to compress a four year course of study into three years."

Kirk nodded.

"That's right."

"I believe that's unprecedented. It could not have been an easy task."

She gazed at him curiously.

"I guess my question is 'why?'"

A self-deprecating look crossed his features. "My closest friend calls me "Idiot" more often than he calls me by my name."

Arianna chuckled and waited for him to continue.

'Of course, I like to think he means that affectionately."

Kirk let the answering grin linger on his face for a moment before adopting a more serious expression.

"The truth is I wanted to prove to everyone that Captain Pike had not been mistaken in recruiting me. And I like a challenge. So I set an almost impossible – and maybe _idiotic_ goal for myself – to finish a four year course load in three years."

She tapped her stylus against the edge of the tablet resting on her lap.

"Would you say that being a legacy student helped you achieve your goal?"

The open expression on Kirk's face disappeared.

"I didn't enter the Academy as a legacy."

Arianna pursed her lips and locked gazes with Kirk.

"I can see that you're a little uncomfortable right now, but I want to pursue this line of questioning for another moment," she said with practiced sympathy. "Captain Pike made his recruitment pitch one evening and you boarded the shuttle to San Francisco the next morning, correct?"

"Yes," he agreed. "That's correct."

She tapped a finger on the glossy armrest of her chair.

"Most people don't just wake up one morning and decide to become a Starfleet cadet," she mused. "The admissions process is arduous. Recruits must have a record of high academic achievement in their lives. They must pass a rigorous admissions exam and even then, having the recommendation of a well-placed member of the Federation or Starfleet is almost always required."

"All of which I had," Kirk pointed out. "I freely admit that I had been drifting through life without any real sense of purpose, but my academic transcripts exceeded the standards set by the Academy and I took and passed the admissions exam less than 24 hours after stepping off the shuttle in San Francisco with no time in advance to prepare. As for the last of it, Captain Pike is well-admired by his peers. He not only recruited me, but he stood as my recommendation."

"So you don't believe that your lineage had anything to do with your rapid acceptance into the Academy?"

He dipped his head in acknowledgment of her point.

"I'm sure it did. You can't have my name and not…" He broke off and shrugged. "Look, I know that Captain Pike took notice of me that night because of my name. I'm not pretending otherwise. But my accomplishments while at the Academy are my own."

"You've been famous since the moment of your birth," she pointed out. "The so-called 'Kelvin Baby'."

She glanced beyond him, nodding toward her producer and a second later gestured as an image of a much younger Winona Kirk and her infant son loomed over them.

"Are you telling me that you do not believe that being the son of one of Starfleet's most revered heroes in recent history has had any impact on your time at the Academy?" she asked in a tone bordering of disbelief.

Kirk visibly bristled. "I believe that I inherited from my parents a stubborn nature and a healthy intellect." He twisted in his seat, studied his mother's face, pale with grief and exhaustion but stoic, and forced himself to speak in a level voice.

"I believe that while my heritage may have opened the Academy doors for me, my name also brought with it an increased level of scrutiny from my peers and professors as well as a set of expectations that few other cadets have ever experienced. Mostly I believe that my work at the Academy is my own. My test scores are my own. I've earned my place."

Arianna's head bobbed in sharp approval of his answer.

"The Academy has suffered unheard of losses in recent days. A great many instructors and cadets were killed in the battle above Vulcan with the heaviest casualties suffered by your class."

Kirk dropped his head briefly as he thought of all the empty seats awaiting them when classes resumed.

"Has Starfleet indicated how they intend to deal with the impact of so great a loss of personnel at the Academy?"

"There will be a private memorial service held on campus tomorrow to be attended by the families of those lost, the surviving cadets and faculty. Classes will resume the next day with the graduating class on an accelerated schedule."

"Do you think you and your classmates will be prepared for that?"

"I think Starfleet needs us to be prepared and will do everything in their power to make sure that we are ready when the time comes."

Arianna nodded somberly.

He watched as she flicked a finger over the surface of the tablet in her hands, scrolling through her notes.

She paused and then looked up.

"Let's switch gears a bit. Tell me about the Kobayashi Maru."

Kirk blinked at the suddenness of the change of topic. It seemed obvious that she knew something but he was surprised that she had any information of what had transpired such a short time ago. Did a fellow cadet speak of it, he wondered, or was it possible that Starfleet had given her the information?

He glanced beyond Arianna's shoulder where Lieutenant Dexter waited off camera and hesitated. Though the official reprimand of his actions during his taking of the Kobayashi Maru had been discussed with several of the Admirals, it had not been covered in his briefing session with Media Affairs and he was unsure how best to answer. Unfortunately, the lieutenant was engrossed in looking at the PADD in her hands and did not seem to be aware of the line of questioning introduced by the talk show host.

He took a steadying breath and decided to forge ahead on his own. He waded carefully into potentially turbulent waters.

"What is it you would like to know?"

"Let's just start with the basics. Please explain to those watching - what is the Kobayashi Maru?"

Kirk forced himself to release his grip on the arms of the chair he was seated in and folded his hands atop the table.

"It's a graded simulation required to be taken by command track students. In the simulation, the USS _Kobayashi Maru_ is a civilian ship which has been disabled and suffers a power loss. The _Maru_ sends out a distress signal which is intercepted by a Starfleet vessel commanded by the cadet taking the test."

He paused to take a sip of water from the cup near his elbow.

"It sounds like a fairly routine test." Arianna commented. "But my understanding is that no cadet has ever beaten it – that is, until you."

Kirk ignored the bait.

"The position of the stranded ship is within the Neutral Zone," he explained. "The only possible way to save the crew of the _Maru_ is for the cadet to take his or her ship into the Neutral Zone where it will immediately be confronted by multiple Klingon warbirds and destroyed by their superior firepower."

He raised his hands palms-up in a sign of frustration.

"The only other alternative is to abandon the crew of the _Kobayashi Maru_ to the Klingons and, of course, no cadet can bring themselves to do that. Almost every cadet makes the fatal decision to enter the Neutral Zone and suffers the loss of their ship and all hands as a result."

"But _you_ beat it."

"In a manner of speaking."

Arianna pursed her lips and sent him a narrow-eyed look.

"You installed a subroutine into the simulation's program which altered the conditions of the test."

"Someone's been talking," he commented blandly.

A broad smile wreathed her face and she leaned forward as if preparing to share a secret.

"My staff is very thorough."

She settled back into her chair and crossed one leg over the other.

"You installed a subroutine…?" she prompted.

"Yes."

"Some people would call that cheating," she mused. "Do you?"

"Yes. I do."

Arianna's expression showed her genuine surprise at his response.

"Isn't that grounds for expulsion?"

"It is."

From the corner of his eye, Kirk became aware that Lieutenant Dexter was now paying very close attention to the discussion. He folded his arms on top of the glossy surface of the table and leaned forward, trying to project an air of confidence.

"If you would indulge me," he said in an earnest tone, "I'd like to explain."

Arianna waved a permissive hand for him to continue.

"What you have to understand from the outset is that the test itself is a cheat. By that I mean that it is deliberately set up by the programmers to be unbeatable."

"To what end?" Genuine confusion colored Arianna's voice. "Why would the Academy set up its command track students for failure?"

"I've been told the principal lesson to be learned from the Kobayashi Maru is for the command student to 'experience fear in the face of certain death'." Spock's words were seared into his memory and he quoted them verbatim. "To accept that fear and maintain control of oneself and one's crew."

He met her gaze levelly. "The test is not set up as an indicator of a cadet's ability to problem solve," he explained. "Its purpose is to take the measure of the man or woman in charge."

"If the purpose of the test is intended as a judge of character, as you say, then why would you cheat to beat it?" Arianna asked. "Why put your career at risk?"

Kirk hesitated. He knew that the majority of his surviving classmates and professors believed that he had installed that subroutine out of a cocky desire to be the only cadet in Academy history to beat the test.

And though he was honest enough with himself to admit that he _had_ achieved a personal thrill by gaming the system the way he did, it was also important to him that people understand why.

He had left his meetings with the brass all but assured that in light of his performance in saving the _Enterprise _in the battle over Vulcan and in the destruction of the _Narada, _they were willing to look the other way with regards to his conduct during the Kobayashi Maru, but he knew that what he said now – and how he said it – would either bolster his support among the admirals, or weaken it.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw and took his time formulating a response.

"I knew that the exam proctors and programmers would quickly find the subroutine I had installed," he began. "At no point was I ever laboring under the assumption that they would not swiftly find out how I managed to beat the test."

Arianna's brow furrowed. "Then why do it in the first place?"

Kirk took a steadying breath.

"To be perfectly honest, the fact that no one had ever beaten the simulation – the fact that the test is designed to be unwinnable – angered me."

She merely cocked her head to one side in silent invitation for him to continue.

He looked at her intently.

"The test is intended to teach cadets about the possibility of a no-win scenario. But I believe that is the wrong message for Starfleet to ingrain upon its next generation of captains. I don't personally believe in the no-win situation."

"But danger and death are as much part and parcel of the life of a member of Starfleet as are exploration and adventure," she countered.

"Absolutely," he agreed. "And I'm not trying to imply that I believe that everyone can be saved in every situation. We need to be prepared for destruction and loss. But I think we should be encouraged to think outside the box to mitigate the degree of such a loss whenever possible."

He raised his hands in a supplicating gesture.

"I refused to accept that the Kobayashi Maru should be designed to be unwinnable in any circumstance. I installed that subroutine to make the point that cadets should be encouraged not only to learn to maintain control of themselves and their crew, but also to come to the understanding that anything should be game when it comes to the lives and deaths of that crew. I believe a captain has the duty to do whatever is necessary to buy time. Even a few additional seconds can be precious in outmaneuvering your opponent – whether that opponent is an enemy or death itself."

He paused, looked down at his hands and then back up. Though exhaustion was clearly etched on his face, his features were alive with the passion of his convictions. His eyes burned bright and blue, electric and striking with the intensity of his fervor.

Arianna studied him for one long, careful moment.

"This is a _cause_ for you," she realized.

"It's a lesson I learned at birth," he said simply. "I am alive today because Captain Robau believed it. He parlayed with Nero on the _Narada _knowing that he was putting his life on the line. He faced his own personal no-win situation in order to give the crew of the _Kelvin_ more time. My father –"

His voice caught and he cleared his throat before continuing.

"My father could have made it to an escape shuttle in time, but he knew that the best chance to protect my mother, me and the rest of the crew – to _buy us time to get away_ – lay with him remaining behind to provide cover fire. _That_ was the point I was trying to make when I installed that subroutine into the program."

He forced himself to relax back into his chair.

"Please understand that I am not advocating cheating in ordinary situations. But in matters of life and death I believe that it is imperative that we learn to do what we can – to do what we must to _cheat death_ at every possible turn."

Arianna allowed for a beat or two of silence as her audience absorbed his passionate words. Her head dipped in a nearly imperceptible nod before she lifted her gaze to the camera.

"We're going to take a short break and then we'll be back with more from James T. Kirk."


End file.
